The reason Laura had sought out Danson was clear. She wanted him to return to his old work: keeping an eye on Anita Moore and investigating the young man who had recently entered her life.
Danson, a veteran paparazzi and former mentor to Julian, was someone Laura believed could accomplish what her own employee couldn't. Perhaps he could uncover something that Julian had missed.
But when she made her request, Danson shook his head, his expression unreadable.
"Anita is protected by the Long family," he said, his voice low. "Their influence is just as powerful as the Swift family. I've already offended the Swifts—if I cross the Longs too, do you think I want to die faster?"
It was clear. Danson wasn't the same man he used to be.
The years spent hiding abroad had worn down his spirit, leaving him more cautious, almost timid. If it weren't for the strange case of John Lopez, which had piqued his interest, Danson wouldn't have even considered returning to the business.
Laura, however, didn't seem surprised by his hesitation. She spoke calmly, her fingers idly tapping the arm of the chair.
"If you collect enough dirt on Anita, the old grudge between you and the Swifts will be forgotten," she said, her voice sweet but with an undercurrent of authority. "You've been hiding for so long, haven't you? I'm sure that life isn't comfortable. Don't you want to get back to your old self?"
Danson paused.
"Of course it's not comfortable," he thought bitterly. Living in hiding for years had left him with more money than he could spend but with no joy or freedom to enjoy it. "Even with money, I didn't dare to live too extravagantly. Living abroad… I'm not used to it."
It was a life without peace, always watching over his shoulder, always hiding.
But the proposition was tempting. The Swift family—his former enemies—might be willing to let him go if he dug up something on Anita Moore. The chance to return to his old life, even for a little while, was an offer he couldn't ignore.
Still, he hesitated. "If I offend the Long family, too, I'm just jumping from one fire pit to another. I'd still be living a miserable life."
Laura didn't blink.
"You don't have to worry about that," she said, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand. "You collect the information. Leave the exposure to me. I promise, the Long family won't even know you exist. They won't come after you."
Her words were reassuring. The weight on Danson's chest lightened a little.
After a long moment of consideration, he nodded, his tone resigned. "If that's the case, I'll give it a try. But I can't promise success. Anita's circle is too… clean."
The way Danson said "clean" revealed a deep respect for Anita Moore. He'd followed her for days when Prosper Entertainment had first shown interest in her. In the cutthroat entertainment world, a newcomer like Anita had to have some skeletons in her closet for a company to abandon someone as established as Laura.
But no matter how hard he looked, Danson had found nothing. There was nothing salacious, nothing to exploit. And when it came to her relationship with the Long family, Danson had noticed something odd. It wasn't Anita getting close to them—it was more like the Longs were reaching out to her.
It didn't add up.
Despite his efforts, all Danson had uncovered were scandals about Laura, not Anita. He had no answers, only more questions.
Still, after Laura's unexpected visit, Danson found himself agreeing to the job. But as he spoke, Laura's face hardened, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"'Clean,' huh?" she muttered. "You mean, I'm not clean enough, right? That's why you caught me instead?"
Danson could see that the compliment had struck a nerve, but he chose not to respond. He knew better than to engage with her anger.
"Humph. You'd better succeed," she said coldly, throwing a business card on the table. "This is my contact. If you find anything about Anita, let me know right away."
Without another word, she grabbed her Prada bag from the sofa, slung it over her shoulder, and slipped on her sunglasses. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she walked out, leaving Danson standing there, staring at the card in his hand.
He let out a bitter laugh.
"I didn't expect to return to my old business..." he muttered to himself. "But that's the thing about curiosity—once it's sparked, you can't ignore it."
Though John Lopez was strange, even unsettling, compared to the Swift family, Danson preferred the Swifts. At least they were predictable, and Danson knew how to handle them. John, on the other hand, was an unknown—something far more dangerous.
But he had already made up his mind. The life he had been hiding was suffocating him. He didn't want to run anymore.
Besides, no matter how evil a person like John was, surely the Swift family would crush him, right?
As he steadied his thoughts, a sudden knock at the door startled him.
Expecting Laura to have forgotten something, Danson opened the door—only to freeze in place.
There, standing in front of him, was John Lopez.
Every nerve in Danson's body screamed. How could this be?
John was smiling, his expression almost too friendly. "You're Danson, right? Let me introduce myself. I'm John. You've probably heard of me online."
The way he spoke made Danson's scalp tingle with unease. This wasn't coincidence. John knew who he was—and that he had been investigating him. That was more than creepy. It was unsettling.
Danson took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. "I'm Danson. But I don't know you."
"Don't deny it so quickly. Let me in first," John said, brushing past him with a nonchalant air.
Before Danson could react, John had already made himself comfortable on the couch, sniffing the air. "Hmm. There's a strong, stinking smell on your sofa."
Danson's heart raced. His instincts told him something was terribly wrong.
"You can't just break into my house like this," Danson said, his voice sharper now. "It's illegal."
John chuckled. "Illegal? The famous Danson is talking about illegalities? That's rich."